"I truly believe if they can't get him help, he won't live to see his 24th birthday." -- Paul Manziel, Johnny Manziel's father,
As a parent, can you imagine making a statement like that about your kid? How horrifying.
None of us know how things were between Paul Manziel and Johnny a decade ago, when Johnny wasn't so far away in age from where my kids are now, but in my experience, my kids' lives are relatively carefree (and, as always, I completely acknowledge suburban privilege in play). And sometimes I allow myself to imagine how things will be when the kids are in their mid-20s, like Johnny Manziel is now. Although the range of fantastical outcomes in my head includes everything from the absurd (assistant GM of the Thunder!) to the wince-inducing (living at home in their old bedrooms!), what is inconceivable -- unfathomable in an oblivion kind of way -- is the kind of existential and mortal dread I see being expressed by Johnny Manziel's dad in that quote.
Wright Thompson wrote about Johnny Manziel
Both his parents believe he won't return for another season in College Station, and until he leaves, they can give love and support and pray that Johnny Football doesn't completely devour Johnathan Manziel.
"Yeah," Paul says one evening, driving in his car, "it could come unraveled. And when it does, it's gonna be bad. Real bad."
He imagines a late-night call, and the cable news ticker, and the next morning's headlines.
"It's one night away from the phone ringing," he says, "and he's in jail. And you know what he's gonna say? 'It's better than all the pressure I've been under. This is better than that.'"
The most frightening thing about Paul Manziel's statement to the Morning News is that it goes beyond -- so far beyond -- the largely standard parental, "I'm worried about my kid." Consider your typical concerns about your kids: too much screen time ... a bit too lackadaisical about homework ... I'm not sure I like the sudden influence of that new friend ... they seem really down because they didn't make the travel team.
Now put yourself in the place of Paul Manziel. Your child fulfills the dream of so many parents: Success! But now he is worried enough that his child might die -- no hyperbole -- that he openly expresses that concern to the world.
So much of parenting is just trying your best to do what you think can to help put your kids on a path for a decent life. I'm not talking about winning the Heisman or getting to the NFL. I'm not even talking about getting into a "good" college or getting a "good" job or having great relationships or however else you might qualitatively (or quantitatively) define as "success." At this point -- in the context of thinking about the harrowing perspective Paul Manziel expressed -- we're just basically talking about the mere baseline of raising well-adjusted people, getting by as best as they can. You assume that, at a minimum, I can accomplish that. But it's more like: CAN I accomplish that?
This story hits home so much for me because it so clearly exposes the most dire limitations of us as parents to keep our kids ultimately safe, from the world or themselves.
